Anything for You
by SilverReplay
Summary: Given a choice, him or the world, he would choose him.


_**Anything for You**_

Disclaimer: I own nothing. And I'm pretty sure I'm not making any monetary profit off of this.

Drabble for actualodinson's 30 Day Dark Fandom OTP challenge

Day 24: 10/24/14

**Prompt: Torture.**

_Summary: Given a choice, him or the world, he would choose him._

...

We've been together forever.

Since birth

Since everything

We had our first kiss together.

It was just a tiny peck on the lips, we were curious. We didn't know better.

We got yelled at by our father saying, "Boys shouldn't do that!"

Our mother, she just hugged us to her chest, screaming how cute we were before dragging us off to put makeup on us.

It felt weird back then.

It feels weird remembering it.

Because we were so innocent, so untainted, so pure.

And now we are drenched with blood, the red dripping of our ledger like a crimson waterfall, the long strands of toxic red making its way around our bodies until it's choking us. Every step we take, it is like long bloody chains were restraining our every move.

We couldn't talk without the guilt freezing our vocal chords.

We couldn't move without feeling the weariness in our bones.

We couldn't touch without feeling repulsed at how the other was touching something so dirty, someone so pure touching such filth.

We couldn't feel without feeling waves upon waves of despair and hatred and rage and destruction engulf us in the relentless ocean of blood.

We couldn't…

We just couldn't…

We only had each other.

Twins.

Together at birth.

Together through childhood.

Together through schooling.

Together through it all.

And now, World War III.

Top spies, top assassins, top infiltrators.

Second to none, we were the best.

But even the best must fall.

I love you, Kaoru.

Stay safe.

Please.

Don't.

Don't come after me.

Save yourself.

…

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the famous Hitachiin Hikaru, how _kind_ of you to grace our doorsteps," stepping into the room, a dark haired man, undistinguishable features in the dark lighting, caught Hikaru's eye. Shit, things were going to get messy.

Staying silent, he refused to talk, even talking gives the interrogator a sense of achievement. It was all psychological, mental, and maddening. He did some dirty work himself, back when he was just climbing up the ladder, this was not going to look good.

He spotted the slight twitch of fingers, the scarred pads on his palms indicated gymnastics or heavy training with full body movement. The slight calluses showed an inclination towards wires, those thin scars on the fingertips, webs, and palms barely bulging off the skin in the faint light of the flickering bulbs above him.

The rusty scent of stale water, straw, and mold wafted around Hikaru. It sickened him. Dulling his senses, a useful feature that saved him more than once when an infiltration would get – rougher – than he expected, especially since he had to go under in some of the more promiscuously scandalous indulgences of the highly influential male authority figures. It was either him or Kaoru.

Given the choice, he shunted his twin to work with the intelligence, working with codes, communications, strategies, etc. He'll handle the more physical work. He is _not_ allowing Kaoru to dirty himself like he is doing.

It was war, he understood that, but they are twins. Identical in all ways except in the most minute and even then they – and Haruhi once he supposes – could tell themselves apart. Any lipstick missions given to Kaoru was snatched up by Hikaru, who would disguise himself into the exact replica, down to the last mole, hair, freckle, tick, expression, personality.

Luckily, their talents in the department was good enough that one of them always remained on base.

This luck backfired.

Stuck in this damp cell, the iron chains chaffing his skin, stripped naked, the cold asphalt and concrete painful against his bare body, Hikaru felt horrible.

He was dreading what was coming next.

The _famous_ Hitachiin Hikaru.

The Senshi no Kage.

The Shadow Soldier.

One of Japan's greatest weapons.

Willing to do anything for the country.

A known player in the underworld.

A known figure in the circles, both male and female.

A person with no qualms about doing what is needed.

Slender. Fit. Male. Light.

Breakable.

It began slowly, just a slight tug at the chains. Then a hard yank that left him gasping for whatever air he could get, the metal collar around his neck blocking his ability to breathe.

A knife, or something sharp, dug at the contours of his body, slowly peeling layers of skin back, piece by piece, the slices curling up into a disgusting mockery of butterfly cocoons that he once watched as a child.

A cigarette? Or was it an iron poker? Hikaru's vision was already getting blurry from pain, but he still didn't make a single vocal sound. Not even a scream as the burns engulfed his body, turning the skin a bright red. Even when a needle tipped in acid was jabbed into the blisters did he did not let out even a small whimper.

The little pots of goo bubbled and sprayed the pus everywhere. He didn't react.

He couldn't bring himself too. He can't let them have the satisfaction of him cracking.

He'll stay strong, if only for his twin.

If only for Kaoru.

But then it got worse. Bronze knuckles, the metal points sharply drawing blood as the punches busted his ribs, his stomach, and chest. He could feel the bruises darkening and forming into little patches of discolored iodine on skin. The pain…he couldn't feel it.

He could feel the person – the male – arrange his body on a metal table. He could feel the large amounts of alcohol being dumped on his body. He could feel the stinging sensation of the cuts being exposed to so much disinfectant.

He didn't react.

He refuses too.

Not even when he became tainted even more, the male climbing over his body, dirtying it, whispering ill words of vulgarities and untruths.

He wouldn't react.

He would deal with this.

He will not break.

He will not submit.

Japan was depending on him.

No.

Kaoru was depending on him.

If given a choice, Kaoru or the world, he would always choose Kaoru.

So even when his world is falling apart, even when his mind is shattering, his body degrading, his stability faltering, he can take it all.

As long as Kaoru would share even a fragment of his world with him, the apocalypse could be happening and he wouldn't even register it.

If given a choice between Kaoru and anything. Fame, fortune, money, peace, _anything_. He would give it all up in less than a heartbeat – as long as he got Kaoru, alive and well, it wouldn't matter to him.

Because since the beginning of his existence, he was made for Kaoru.

His existence _is_ Kaoru.

...

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24/30 Days done~

-SilverReplay.


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